


Cookie Day

by Adagan



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Blue Team, Cookies, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 07:38:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6275518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adagan/pseuds/Adagan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's a blue team tradition. Make cookies every Sunday."</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>A compalition of blue team baking adventures.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cookie Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OrangeChild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeChild/gifts).



> Written for my wonderful sister, who brainstormed this concept with me.

"Reggie, if you aren't going to help, get out of the kitchen," agent Florida chastised the man usually in white armor.

"I'm helping," the British agent insisted and dipped his finger in the cookie batter again, "it needs more chocolate chips."

Florida knew what Wyoming was thinking as the taller man eyed a large bag of chocolate chips resting on Florida’s side of the counter. Florida did his best to stop Wyoming from reaching the bag, but the higher ranked agent succeeded in the end, reaching around him and lifting the bag to his side. He ripped the bag open and poured the entire thing into the bowl.

"Reggie no!" Florida cried through his giggles.

Wyoming grinned at his chocolaty abomination, he took a spoon and enjoyed a large spoonful of chocolate chips, "that's better, would you like a taste?"

"Absolutely not!" Florida snapped, still laughing.

"Come on!" Wyoming grabbed the significantly smaller agent and pressed a spoonful of chocolate chips to his lips.

"Mmm!" Florida kept his lips firmly together.

"Eat it!" Wyoming laughed, trying hard to make Florida submit to his spoon of chocolate, Florida refused to be defeated so easily. Wyoming suddenly grinned at an idea. He used one hand to attack Florida, left side, just under the rib cage. Only Wyoming would know where he's that ticklish.

Florida squealed with laughter and Wyoming took his opportunity to cram the spoon into Florida's mouth.

"There we are, it's good, isn't it?" Wyoming's grin widened in victory.

"I expect you to eat that," Florida tells him as he tried to calm down from the madness.

"I don't think that'll be a problem, but you have to help," Wyoming insisted playfully.

"Absolutely not! You made it, you eat it!" Florida argued.

"Yes well, you encouraged me, you told me to help so now you have to help," Wyoming proudly declared.

Florida laughed long and hard, as he tried to salvage the mess, Wyoming joined him, which really just made them both laugh harder and the cookies more deliciously unsalvageable. Sunday is their favorite day. But, who can really hate cookie day.

* * *

"'Sup uh, Cappy?" Private Tucker wondered as he peeked in the kitchen, a little surprised to find it all set up and his captain tying an apron on.

"Hello there Private, I'm about to prepare some cookies, it's a bit of a tradition for me to make cookies every Sunday, would you like to help?" Captain Flowers offered and explained the set up.

"Sure, there's nothing better to do in this place," Tucker shrugged and entered the kitchen, Flowers handed him an extra apron.

"Wash your hands, and then pass me the flour," Flowers requested.

"No problem," Tucker nodded as he moved towards the sink, "so what kind of cookies are we making?"

"Chocolate chip," Flowers replied as the two got started, "eggs."

"Here," Tucker handed over first the flour, then began looking for the eggs, "you a big chocolate fan?"

"Not really, but I used to know someone who was," Flowers smiled fondly, "can you pass me the sugar?"

A grin spread wide across Tucker's face as he passed Flowers first the eggs then the sugar, "an old girlfriend?"

"Not exactly, but a very close friend," Flowers laughed lightly and cracked the eggs expertly, "baking soda please."

"I see, it's cool dude, I don't judge," Tucker shrugged as he retrieved the box.

"Thank you," Flowers took the baking soda and continued with his baking, Tucker provided idle conversation, which was a nice source of background noise. And a good distraction from how much Flowers missed the chaotic mess and laughter that cookie day used to be. But this was okay.

* * *

"Church! Step away from the cookies!" Florida practically screamed the request at the new recruit wielding a blowtorch.

"What's the matter?" Church demanded.

"You don't use a blowtorch on cookies!" Tucker exclaimed, keeping a safe distance away.

"Then how are you supposed to cook them?" Church asked.

"You use the oven!" Flowers said, trying to calm himself and not sound panicked or frustrated, and he was a bit of both.

"Really? That's what that's for?" Church looked skeptical.

"Yes!" both the competent (semi-competent in Tucker’s case) cooks replied.

"What else would you use it for?!" Tucker demanded.

"Extra storage and counter space," Church explained himself as if it was obvious.

"It emits heat when you turn the dials!" Tucker yelled the information disbelievingly.

"Yeah, I was wondering why my stuff occasionally burst into flames and burnt itself, that explains a lot," Church acknowledged.

"Oh my god, Captain– er, Cappy, can we ban Church from the kitchen? Forever?" Tucker requested.

"Now Tucker, we can't ban him from entering part of the base just because he can't cook," Flowers insisted.

"Hey, I can cook just fine!" Church argued, but was ignored.

"But maybe it would be for the best if he never touched any kitchen equipment ever again," Flowers suggested.

"Good enough," Tucker decided.

"Now, let's try to salvage these cookies!" Flowers suggested optimistically looked at the disaster (mostly) in a bowl.

"There's glass in them," Tucker reminded his captain.

"Let's make a new batch of cookies!" Flowers corrected his suggestion, "Church, you go… make sure the Reds don't attack."

"That's dumb, I can cook…" Church grumbled to himself but complied.

"That one is going to be the death of me," Flowers joked as he threw out Church's monstrosity and he and Tucker restarted their regular cookie making ritual. Because even after a disaster like that, Sunday needs cookies.

* * *

"It's Sunday," Tucker observed.

"So what?" Church didn't even look over. The boys had no internet, no form of entertainment whatsoever, so they'd been sitting on top of the base, legs dangling over the side, neither really doing anything but looking out at their shitty box canyon.

"I'm gonna make cookies," Tucker decided, getting up and heading for the kitchen.

"Well that's random," Church gave Tucker a curious glance.

"Not really, Flowers always made cookies on Sundays, so now I'm craving cookies," Tucker shrugged.

"Oh, I can help," Church offered and prepared to get up as well.

"No!" Tucker yelled quickly, remembering the disaster that occurred last time, "I mean, uh, you… stay here, keep an eye out for the Reds or… whatever."

"Oh come on, that's boring, is this because of last time?" Church demanded following Tucker to the kitchen.

"Yes, now get out," Tucker ordered as he tied his apron on.

"I'm the leader! You can't tell me what to do!" Church insisted.

"I just did, now get out or you don't get any cookies at the end," Tucker threatened.

"You suck," Church grumbled as he left.

Tucker gave himself a small congratulatory smirk for his small victory as he ran his hands under the sink. He pulled out all the ingredients and double checked that he had everything. Then he prayed that he could remember Flowers' cookie recipe.

* * *

"You let the rookie help?! But you won't give me a second chance?!" Church yelled irritably from just outside the kitchen.

"Sorry," Caboose apologized for the kitchen disaster.

"It's… fine! I'll just start over!" Tucker snapped, doing his best to not scream at them both, "and clean up the goddamn kitchen because as of right now apparently I'm the only one allowed in here! Caboose, get out!"

"Okay…" Caboose dejectedly joined Church by the door, "Tucker, I forgot my gun, can I come back in and get it?"

Tucker grabbed Caboose's gun and shoved it into the idiot's hands,

"Thank you," Caboose accepted the gun.

"Alright, just so we're clear, Caboose, every Sunday you get to help Church spy on the Reds as far from the kitchen as possible! And if you do a good job, I'll give you cookies!"

"I like cookies," Caboose agreed…? probably.

"Great, but remember, if you don't do a good job helping Church you don't get any cookies!" Tucker repeated, just to be clear, you could never repeat something enough for Caboose.

"Okay! I have to help Church!" Caboose nodded his understanding.

"This is so dumb, why can't I make cookies?" Church demanded.

"Because you did worse than Caboose!" Tucker reminded their honorary leader.

"I did not!" Church glared.

"Caboose just made a mess, you almost killed us all," Tucker flatly rejected Church's argument, "now both of you get out of here." Tucker closed the door in both of their faces. He grimaced when he turned back to the war zone of a kitchen. "The things I'll do for cookies…"

* * *

"Tex get out of my kitchen."

* * *

"Aw sweet! We get cookies on Sundays?!" Sister excitedly demanded as she entered the kitchen.

"Yeah, it's a blue team tradition, you wanna help?" Tucker offered.

"Sure! What do you want me to do?" Sister bounced over to where Tucker was finishing prep work.

"Put this on and wash your hands, then pass me the flour," Tucker instructed.

"Got it! Man, my brother's gonna be so jealous!" Sister bubbled as she complied.

"Thanks, I need the sugar next," Tucker grinned at having a surprisingly competent assistant, "god, you're so much better than Church and Caboose."

"Well duh, neither of them are this hot!" Sister didn't miss a beat, gesturing to her hot bod.

Tucker laughed, "yeah, that's definitely true. Baking soda. Also, you don't make a huge mess. We let Church help once! He's worse in the kitchen then with that stupid sniper rifle! He almost killed everyone in blue base!"

"Really? Wow, once I met a dude who burnt his house down while I was still in there, talk about rude!" Sister complained.

"Woah, who does that to a chick this hot?" Tucker laughed.

"I know! And this other time…"

The two ended up exchanging stories while they made cookies. A lot were unbelievable, and a few probably weren't true. But they had fun, and they got cookies at the end so it was even better (what happened while the cookies were in the oven was pretty good too.)

* * *

"Does anyone want a cookie?"

"Honk!" Junior raced to his father and his cookie tray.

"Yeah, yeah, here you go little man," Tucker laughed and lowered the cookie tray so that Junior could reach.

"Honk!" the alien child happily cried and claimed two fistfuls.

"You want one?" Tucker offered the tray to his former enemy who is now… here… for… some… reason…

"You… made cookies… without me?" Donut sounded betrayed and like he was on the verge of tears.

"Uh, yeah, it's a blue team tradition. Make cookies every Sunday," Tucker explained the situation that Donut was so scandalized by.

"But you didn't even invite me!" Donut sobbed dramatically.

"Sorry?" Tucker apologized hesitantly, "we aren't enemies anymore, but you don't really feel blue team."

"But I want to make cookies too!" Donut argued.

"Sorry, I didn't know, you can help next time," Tucker offered.

"Blarg!" Junior insisted, tugging on his father's arm.

"Of course, you can help too!" Tucker grinned.

"I should hope so!" Donut snapped and snatched a cookie from the tray and stuffed it in his mouth, "this is a really good cookie!" The next week the cookies inexplicably ended up with pink sparkles mixed in. They weren't edible sparkles, but they looked pretty.

* * *

 "Church," Caboose greeted his best friend.

Church grimaced, "what do you want Caboose?"

"I want a cookie," Caboose replied.

"What?" Church adjusted himself to give Caboose a confused look.

"Well, now that you are back I can help you again, and when I help you Tucker makes me cookies, but I have been helping you all week and Tucker has not made me a cookie," Caboose explained.

"Oh yeah, it's Sunday. Tucker isn't here, idiot, and you know that we aren't allowed– wait a second," Church paused, then he grinned, "Tucker isn't here to stop us, Caboose! We're going to make cookies! Come on!"

"Alright! Cookies with Church! Those are the best kind!" Caboose happily agreed, and the two made their way to a makeshift kitchen.

"Caboose! Church! We have to get going! Where…" Agent Washington trailed off as he came across what used to be Church and Caboose's makeshift kitchen, now a complete disaster of… something.

"Hello Washingtub! Would you like a cookie?" Caboose offered Washington something that most certainly was not a cookie.

"What is that?" Washington curled his lip in disgust.

"It was supposed to be a cookie, Church wanted to try making them, and I wanted them, but something went a little bit wrong," Caboose explained.

"Hey! Don't you dare try to pin this on me! I was doing fine! If you didn't knock literally everything over it would've been fine!" Church snapped.

"Why are there bullets stuck on the ceiling?" Wash asked.

"Bullets are normal in cookies," Church sneered the obvious.

"No… they really aren't," Washington disagreed. He looked around at the rest of the disaster. Slowly taking in what the end of the world will look like. "Clean this up," Washington ordered, then looked around one more time, "I'm going to go take a nap."

* * *

 "Hey, uh, Tucker," Caboose greeted their newly rerecruited team member.

"What's up Caboose?" Tucker sighed, turning to the idiot.

"Well uh, I've been helping Church really good, and it's that day, when you'll make the cookies, so can Church and I have cookies now?" Caboose asked.

Tucker stared at the other Blue, "we have locked ourselves into this temple in the middle of the desert, there are people who want to kill us outside, we have virtually no supplies, and you want me to make you cookies?"

"Yes," Caboose agreed.

"Hey, Tucker! Caboose said you're supposed to have cookies by now!" Church floated into the room.

"Church, you don't have a mouth, let alone a digestive system, you can't eat cookies!" Tucker exclaimed.

"I'd still appreciate the thought," Church replied.

Tucker groaned heavily.

"Alright, I've heard the word 'cookie' come from this room several times and no one's called me yet, I find that offensive," Grif said as he entered the room.

"I haven't even started yet! Now all of you get out or none of you will get any cookies!" Tucker shooed them all out.

He sighed, grabbed his apron, washed his hands and set to work. Of course despite Tucker's being difficult, he had plenty of supplies for cookies. He never stopped having cookie day, even in the middle of the desert, while under attack, with very limited supplies. Somehow.

* * *

 "Private Tucker, what are you doing?" Agent Washington cautiously asked as he passed the kitchen.

"It's Sunday, that's cookie day," Tucker replied without looking away from his work.

"Is that really such a good idea after last time?" Washington wondered, looking heavily concerned.

"You mind getting to the point already?" Tucker impatiently demanded, finally turning to face their newest teammate.

"Well, after Church and Caboose's attempt at cookie day, I just thought…" Washington trailed off, uncertain of how to continue.

"Wait, Church and Caboose tried to have cookie day without me?" Washington nodded, Tucker laughed, "that must've been a disaster. Don't worry about it, I actually know how to bake without killing anyone."

"Still, I believe I would feel better if you'd let me observe," Washington requested.

"Do whatever you want, so long as it doesn't destroy my kitchen, just wash your hands first, and pass me those eggs," Tucker said.

"Uh, right, here," Washington complied.

"Hey, we're off to a good start, with Church at that step we had gunpowder in the bowl and Caboose had broken the spoons, don't ask how," Tucker grinned.

"I don't want to know," Washington grimaced, "you know, it's weird. Back during Freelancer, Sunday was cookie day then too, Agent Florida used to make them, and Wyoming… helped? sort of. Chocolate chip were Wyoming's favorites."

"Aw, gross, way to ruin an entire type of cookie," Tucker joked.

"Sorry. Maybe next week we could try gingerbread," Washington would never admit that a little part of him was really, really hopeful for his favorite kind of cookie again.

"I only ever learned how to make chocolate chip from my old captain, which was weird, because he didn't even really like chocolate chips, but we can try," Tucker offered.

"Thanks," Washington smiled lightly. The following week was known as "the great gingerbread disaster". And they decided to just compromise afterwards and shaped chocolate chip cookies like gingerbread men from then on. Washington decided it was good enough.

* * *

 "Where's Captain Tucker?" Felix demanded of Palomo, the mercenary hadn't seen the recently promoted Blue training or doing something else stupid in several hours, and was getting—not concerned, curious.

"I think he said he was going to the kitchen. He's pretty upset about the last mission, he told me I'm banned from the kitchen and to stay out here, but he's been in there for a while," Palomo replied quickly.

"The kitchen?" there are lots of dangerous things in the kitchen, maybe he'd do Felix a favour and kill himself. Spare the mercenary the trouble later, "I'll go check up on him."

"God damn it Palomo! If that's you I will shove this spoon down your throat!" Tucker yelled without turning when Felix inched the door open.

"It isn't Palomo," Felix stated simply.

"Felix?" Tucker turned to the mercenary, "what're you doing here?"

"Just checking that you haven't died or anything," Felix glanced around the messy kitchen, the garbage can filled with cookie dough, "I didn't expect you to be the sort of guy who bakes when he's stressed."

"I'm not," Tucker snorted before turning back to his bowl, "it's Sunday."

"Which means…?" Felix wondered, cocking an eyebrow.

"It's cookie day, every Sunday, Blue team members—who don't destroy the kitchen—make cookies for the rest of the team, which right now means: I make cookies for Caboose, but Grif'll definitely steal at least half of them, and I might as well give Simmons one while I'm at it. Maybe Palomo too, if I feel like it," Tucker explained, "try this."

Felix was almost caught off guard by the spoon that was shoved in his mouth, almost. Tucker stared at him expectantly, "it's sort of bland."

Tucker groaned and scraped the remains of the bowl into the trash.

"You know, Kimball would kill you if she knew how much food you're wasting," Felix smirked at the overflowing garbage can.

"I don't care, I'm going to make gingerbread cookies if it kills me," Tucker frowned and started all over. Felix gave him another confused look which went ignored before deciding he was bored and leaving.

It was hours later when Felix saw the aqua, bluish green, sea foam, whatever the hell colour it was, captain again.

"Felix! Catch!" Tucker tossed the mercenary a small cookie man. Tucker grinned proudly while Felix stared at the small cookie in confusion. Tucker left without any further comment to give the rest of his team the fruit of several hours of labor. Felix bit off the head of his surprisingly good cookie.

* * *

 "Carolina! You want to help us make cookies?" Tucker called to the similarly colored ex-freelancer.

"What?" Carolina demanded, looking up from cleaning her weapon.

"Every Sunday Tucker and I make cookies for the others, sort of like what Florida used to do," Washington explained.

"Oh, I don't think that's the best-" Carolina began.

"If Carolina gets to help can I help too?" Church wondered.

"Absolutely not," Tucker and Wash simultaneously disagreed.

"Come on, Alpha was the one who almost killed everyone with baking. I'm Epsilon, remember?" Church reminded the two.

"…I can't believe I'm considering this," Tucker groaned.

"He's an AI now, what's the worst he can do?" Washington shrugged.

"Yeah! That's the spirit!" Church agreed, "it'll be fine."

"I have to help Church! So I have to help too!" Caboose decided.

"Oh dear god," Tucker grimaced, "this is going to be a disaster."

Ten minutes later.

"Tucker did it," Caboose stared at the shattered bowl on the ground.

"Caboose you can't say that to me!" Tucker exclaimed.

"Are you sure this is right?" Carolina asked the AI on her shoulder.

"Yeah, blowtorches are the way to go, trust me, way faster," Church agreed.

"I was thinking we go bigger," Carolina suggested.

"Carolina why is there a rocket launcher in the kitchen?!" Tucker cried.

"It's more efficient," Carolina replied.

"In killing us maybe!" Tucker yelled.

Crash!

"Caboose!"

"Tucker did it."

"That's it! Everyone who has a rocket launcher, is an AI program that can't cook for shit, or is an idiot who has broken something in the last ten seconds get the hell out of the kitchen!" Tucker ordered.

Crash!

"Caboose!"

Five minutes later everyone but Tucker and Wash has been shooed out of the kitchen and banned from reentry for life, and any other life they may have in the future. Tucker sighed loudly.

"That couldn't have gone worse," Wash did a very poor job of keeping the amused grin out of his voice.

Tucker glared back halfheartedly, then broke into a smile, he pulled out a new bowl. The mess can wait, it isn't going anywhere, and cookies needed baking. Cookies always take priority. But Tucker spared a second of baking time to flick some of the disaster at the ex-agent to get him back to the matter at hand.

"Wash, if you aren't going to help, get out of the kitchen."

**Author's Note:**

> Haha. This isn't as good as I remember it being when I wrote it a few months ago, but it's still pretty cute in my opinion. I'm not happy with the sister scene and it was more Tucker-centric than I originally planned, but otherwise I guess it's alright. Thank you to anyone who read it, and bonus thanks to anyone taking the time to read this. I really hope you all enjoyed it and I look forward to contributing more fanfiction here in the future.


End file.
